A Venting of (Cake) Frustrations

Alternative Title: Why I Don't Decorate Cakes For Others
  1. (I apologize for this and will probably end up having publisher's remorse and delete it, but for now I'm going to use it to let go of some my frustrations so that they don't build themselves into something ugly.)
  2. I opened up Twitter the other night to find that I had a DM from a one-time-friend-but-feels-more-like-an-acquaintance-now (a frintance?) asking me if I would be interested in making a cake for their kid's birthday party. No party theme. No cake size. Not even the day it would be needed by. Just a simple, "I need a cake."
    (Why they chose to DM me on Twitter, I'll never know because they have my cell phone number.)
  3. Should this have been my first sign to politely decline and walk away?
  4. Probably, but I figured the least I could do is ask when the party was. After all, their kid's birthday isn't until the middle of the month, which would give me pleeeenty of time to plan out and construct this cake. Right?
  5. The party is Friday— as in *this* Friday.
  6. My brain automatically started shouting:
  7. After all, I already have a pretty full plate of my own projects and commitments without adding a cake for someone else into that mix.
  8. Not to mention that I have an appointment tomorrow to talk to my doctor about adjusting my anxiety meds because I ugly-cried and had a panic attack over a summons for jury duty last week.
    (It was a scene that was as every bit as pitiful as it sounds.)
  9. But just as I was about to tell them that I couldn't, my sentimentalitis decided to flare up.
  10. "It's only Sunday," I thought.
    Which, by the way, will be my (not so) famous last words, y'all.
  11. I mean it wouldn't give me as much time as I like to have when planning, making and decorating a cake but it still seemed doable.
    I won't lie- it also didn't hurt that it would give me a little extra spending cash.
  12. (I just want to add that depending on the size, design, and my own experience, it can take me a week or more just to plan one out because I'm a nerdy perfectionist when it comes to stuff like that.)
  13. So with a sigh and eyes closed shut, I messaged them back:
  14. Okay, so it wasn't a YES! as much as it was an "Okay, I'll do it" but I also made sure to make it perfectly clear that I would need an idea of what kind of cake they wanted, cake size, allergy restrictions, etc AS SOON AS POSSIBLE.
    And yes, I was obnoxious enough to capitalize that phrase in my reply.
  15. That was Sunday.
  16. It is now Wednesday afternoon, and I just got a response- the first in days!- that basically said their child won't decide what kind of cake they want. What makes it even better is that the kid doesn't even like cake, which means that it's basically there for the adults.
    (Proving how terrible of a person I am, my brain was like, "So, um, if it's basically there for the adults then why don't you just pick the cake?")
  17. Needless to say, I'm kind of feeling like this:
  18. ...and this...
  19. ...and yes, even a little like this:
    (Although, I admit I'm a complete and total crier.)
  20. But the thing is I'm not angry.
  21. Not really.
  22. It is, after all, just a cake.
  23. I guess I'm just (extremely) frustrated because I can't get an answer now, but then tomorrow night will roll around and this person will end up sending me a picture of some detail heavy cake and expect me to somehow pull it together before their party on Friday.
    (Or in a more concise way, I'm frustrated that it feels like they aren't respecting my time by getting me the information I need and have asked them for multiple times.)
  24. With that being said, I hope that when I'm standing in my kitchen at 2AM on Friday morning, trying not to get tears on my fondant pieces, someone will lovingly remind me that I did this to myself by saying yes when I really should have said HELL NO.
    (I already recognize and accept that I have so much blame in this situation, but it's easy to lose that perspective when your feet are hurting and you're convinced that you're going to out and out lose it if one more thing goes wrong.)
  25. For now, though, I will continue to check my phone every few minutes and debate whether I should send them yet another message/email/text in the (futile) hopes of getting an answer.
  26. (For the record, my mom says that if she were me, she would call them and tell them that she couldn't make the cake since they couldn't seem to get their act together. Which admittedly would be kind of great except that a) I don't want to be responsible for ruining a kid's birthday party and b) I made a commitment that I feel like I need to honor.)
    You know, even if I'm not being given any help on their end of this....